Mad with the itch

Oh man, I came this close, THIS CLOSE, to chopping off my right middle finger. No joke, that finger almost did not survive the weekend. It didn’t matter how much I would miss that finger, and believe me I would (as would many others). Not only do I use it every day to type such important letters as K and I (both of which are in my name) but also rather frequently to extend my most loveable term of endearment to some of my favourite people 😉 But that finger, oh man it was driving me mad with the itch! It was so freaking itchy, like 50 spider bites itchy, a bush of stinging nettles itchy, crawling scabies itchy, cheap laundry detergent itchy, chop my bloody finger off now itchy. I tried to relieve the itch by rubbing it on my jeans, scraping it along the ridges of a pill …

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